


The Rains Weep O'er Her Halls

by Grundy



Series: First Age [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:19:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5681137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/pseuds/Grundy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makalaurë left his dream of children in Tirion with his wife. Now he and his brother are responsible for three of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rains Weep O'er Her Halls

Makalaurë was relieved when Elrond allowed himself to be picked up. He could feel the tension and strain on the little boy, who had clearly realized for some time now that things had gone very badly wrong in his small world. He hummed softly, snatches of lullabies he’d once sung to a different set of twins, hoping to soothe the little one.

When he and his brother emerged from the cave, each carrying an elfling, Glinwen looked as if this was the only good thing to happen to her today.

“I can carry one of them, my lords,” she offered stoutly.

Maedhros brushed off her suggestion, sounding just for a moment like the gentle older brother he had been in Tirion rather than the scarred and hardened elf he had become here in Endórë. Despite that, Makalaurë knew he had already been impatient to be away, and that was before it had taken so long to reassure both twins that it was all right for them to disobey Lalwen.

It was entirely possible they would need to carry Glinwen up that narrow staircase, he realized as he watched the girl’s faltering steps. The twins may have lost their mother – not to death, but somehow Makalaurë cannot believe that the Valar will allow either the Silmaril or its bearer to return to the Hither Shores – but Glinwen has lost more.

To make matters worse, the wind was whipping up fiercely as a storm rolled in from the bay. It was not raining – not yet, at any rate – but the spray from the furious waves was enough to soak them before they had covered even half the length of the beach. The incoming tide meant they would have to hurry to make it to the stairs before the narrowest section, right at the base of the cliff, was underwater. Ulmo was signaling his wrath at their actions – as if intervening to spare Elwing had not been sign enough.

The two grown elves managed to steer the girl between them until they reached the stairs, keeping her on her feet despite the occasional stumble. She was in a far worse state than she was willing to let on.

Makalaurë was relieved to see that someone had had the sense to move Nellas so Glinwen did not have to pass the corpse a second time, and the boys would not see it at all. He did not want to contemplate how little Elrond had known his caretaker was dead.

“Glinwen,” Makalaurë said when they reached the stairs. “Are you able to make the climb to the ledge?”

“I think so,” the girl said, sounding as if she meant the exact opposite but was frightened of what might happen if she admitted it.

He supposed from her perspective, it might make sense that she would be superfluous now that they had retrieved their young kinsmen. Said young kinsmen, fortunately, were oblivious to her fears- one was now asleep, and the other gave every appearance of greatly enjoying his much higher than usual vantage point.

“If you didn’t have the rucksack, I could ride on your back,” Elros piped up from his perch in the crook of Maedhros’ arm. “Then you could carry both of us. You’re big enough and strong enough.”

“That,” Maedhros said slowly, “is a very good idea, young Elros. But I think it would be best not to leave your things, especially not when this pack is Aunt Lalwen’s last gift to you.”

Elros beamed at the first words, but lost a bit of luster at the reminder that he would not see his aunt again- at least not unless the Valar relented and allowed innocents like him to make the journey to Aman. Makalaurë was certain Lalwen would be reborn. Any sin in following Nolofinwë across the ice must surely be mitigated by having kept Itarillë and her grandchildren safe, even at the expense of her own life. Or so he would like to think…

Makalaurë would have gladly carried more, but Elrond was already sleeping, and he could not see how they could maneuver the second pack onto his back without shifting the child, waking him. He had a feeling that waking him would not improve the situation.

“Elros will ride pickaback, and you can strap the pack on over him,” Glinwen said to Maedhros. “It will be safer, even. If you use the hip straps, you will bear the weight, but with the shoulder straps and pack itself to keep him in place, he cannot fall.”

She glanced apprehensively at the stairs, a challenge enough for children even when dry. The first raindrops were already falling, and all too soon, it would be pouring down.

It was a relief to hear both children offering helpful suggestions. They would not do so if they had not decided to trust them- or at least to trust that they are better than being left alone on the shore with a storm blowing in. Makalaurë was not certain which it was right now.

It took some time to arrange children and pack so that Maedhros could manage, but they did manage to begin the climb before the churning surf was hitting the first stairs. The ascent was harrowing, and Makalaurë found himself praying as he had not in many years.

_Ulmo, truest friend of the Eldar, no matter how unworthy of your aid we are, surely you would not punish children for our sins? The little ones have suffered enough this day. Let us see them safe at least!_

When they finally reached the ledge after what felt like forever, Makalaurë helped Maedhros undo the pack from his back. Glinwen was set gently down, and retreated, shaking with cold and possibly fear of the gale now howling around them, plastering herself as firmly to the face of the cliff as she could manage.

Makalaurë handed the still sleeping Elrond, who was now soaked, to Maedhros. Elros had been kept somewhat drier by the shelter of the pack over top of him.

His brother balanced both children in his arms while Makalaurë scrambled up the rough ladder. He was relieved to find that Lalwen had also been moved, so the children will not be distressed by the sight, and some thoughtful elf has poured sand around on the floor. Hopefully the young ones will not realize that it is there to cover the blood.

Then again, perhaps he worried too much. Elrond was asleep, Elros was finally nodding off despite the excitement, and poor Glinwen had already seen it.

“At last. We were worried the tide would cut you off!”

Pelendur was waiting for them, and Makalaurë could kiss him when he saw that his brother’s captain had blankets and hot drinks at the ready, as well as ropes to assist his brother if necessary.

Maedhros passed up first one twin, then the other, before lifting the girl up for Pelendur to haul into safety. If the girl remembered him from earlier, she was too exhausted by her ordeal to protest. Only when the children were safe did Maedhros pass the rucksacks in and with some assistance, clamber up himself.

“The storm may bring the elves of Balar here faster than expected,” Pelendur told them quietly. “The winds are in their favor.”

That was no surprise.

Pelendur led them without being asked to the children’s room. There, they found elves briskly dismantling the boys’ furniture, their remaining clothing and toys already packed into trunks which were being closed and made ready to carry outside.

Two of his own men peeled off at once to bring warm towels and help Makalaurë change the sleeping children into dry nightclothes. A nis who had been one of Amras’ followers half led, half-carried Glinwen off to find dry clothing of her own and pack whatever she wished to take with her.  
Makalaurë raised an eyebrow.

“Pelendur, how do you expect us to carry all this?” he asked.

They may have horses enough – spare, even, since they have surely lost more than just Amras in today – but horses alone cannot carry such heavy trunks.

“We secured a few wagons before the flames really took the town,” the captain replied stolidly. “Elwing’s house is far enough from the rest that it would likely have been safe even without this storm soaking everything down. The trunks will go on one wagon, and the other can have tarps fixed over it so the young ones can ride dry until the weather clears.”

Makalaurë decided it was best not to question that everyone involved seemed to take for granted that all three children would be returning to Amon Ereb with them.

“And if Gil-galad follows us in the morning?” he enquired.

There was no road directly from Sirion to Amon Ereb. It was several days’ journey at least by horse to the nearest road running to their fortress, and that lay well northeast, beneath the Andram, connecting their stronghold with what had once been Nargothrond.

“On foot?” Maedhros snorted. “Even if he’s risked bringing horses- and I doubt he will have wanted to waste the time loading them would take- they won’t recover from being aship in a storm fast enough to ride in hot pursuit.”

Makalaurë nodded. His older brother has always had the best mind for logistics. Only Curvo had been his equal at strategy – and their younger brother had all too often failed to accurately account for people. If Maedhros did not think it likely, that was good enough.

“When do we set out?” he asked.

“Morning will be soon enough,” Maedhros replied. “The storm may help the ships from Balar, but they were still not in sight mid-afternoon, and if they spot the evacuees, they will doubtless put in to help them first. They must realize that they are too late for the town by now. We’ll post lookouts. Elwing’s house is an excellent vantage point.”

Probably the entire reason it had been sited atop a cliff. Surely the designers had not had suicide in mind.

“The wagon with the trunks can set off as soon as we finish loading, and by a different route,” Pelendur suggested.  
“Rendezvous later, when you’re certain you’ve shaken off any pursuit.”

Maedhros nodded, and Pelendur marched off to see to it.

Then his brother clapped him on the back.

“There are other rooms still intact, and the little ones may as well sleep in a bed while they can.”

That was true enough. It might take several weeks to reach home, and while the young ones could bed down in the wagon, it will not be the same.

Makalaurë chose to settle the twins in what they believe to be Elwing’s room, where he hoped the familiar scent may soothe them into untroubled dreams. He was thankful they did not stir as he tucked them in.

He made himself a bed on the floor. It was no worse than many places he has slept, and if either boy woke with night terrors, he would be close at hand.

He did not sleep immediately. Instead, he watched, somewhat amazed, at the elflings that fate has entrusted to his care. He usually did not let himself think on his wife, but tonight, he could not help wondering what Lindelotë would say if he could tell her that their cherished dream had been fulfilled after a fashion.

Perhaps one of them will like music…

 

The sky was not yet fully light when Maedhros shook him awake.

“We’ve sighted ships flying Cirdan’s banner on the horizon,” he told him quietly. “Bring the boys at once.”

Both twins were still sleeping deeply enough not to stir when Makalaurë carried them down to the wagon waiting in the courtyard, which Pelendur had made quite comfortable with mattresses from beds that would no longer be slept in, and piled with enough blankets and pillows that the children will be in no danger of chill.

A third of their force has been sent with the baggage, in case of orcs or other forms of trouble. The remaining soldiers are milling about, ready to set out as soon as the children are safely settled. Makalaurë noticed that quite a few of them stared, as if children were a sight more exotic than anything they have seen in the wilds of Beleriand.

Guided by the same nis that had seen to her last night, Glinwen walked to the wagon under her own power, but still dazed enough that he suspected she was not properly seeing anything. She appeared to sink straight back to sleep as soon as she lay down.

He tucked heavy blankets carefully around all three children, making them as comfortable as possible. The storm may have blown itself out, but the day will be all the colder for it. The twins did not stir, even when after a moment’s thought, he placed them separately. The younger one was not a quiet sleeper, and little Elrond still looked exhausted. He needed uninterrupted sleep.

He was thankful that they depart while the children sleep. This way, they would not see the ruin of the Havens, or look back longingly at Elwing’s house.


End file.
